Inevitable
by Lady Merlin
Summary: Spock meets one of Jim's old friends, who happens to know something about Jim. And Spock's being strangely mean... K/S-slash! K&OC friendship! Oneshot


There _is_ a plot! See? The plotty things going on!? There it is! And there it is again! Go see the brand-new plot! (I own nothing, except the plot :)

It was impossible (yes, even _he_ used an absolute term) to find a corner of the universe in which Jim did not have friends. It was therefore inevitable that Jim had a large (n, where n1) number of friends in a gathering of people from all around the universe. It was a Star Fleet affair, a ball of sorts. Normally these things were only for the rich and famous. This time every being with any political power what-so-ever was invited.

Jim knew every other person, and Spock found astounding that his Captain was able to store that much information, and recall it at will. Not only did he remember names, but he remembered their planets, their political positions, their planetary current affairs, their families and a smattering of personal issues. It was beyond belief.

He was normally proud of his Captain, that he had an inbuilt socializing system which made him an even greater asset to Star Fleet. It was therefore odd to feel a squeezing sensation in his chest region and a nagging pain in his gut when Jim greeted a aesthetically pleasing, dark human female, with impossibly large brown eyes.

But it would have been, Spock supposed, acceptable if Jim had greeted her like her greeted everyone else; with a bright smile, and a gender appropriate gesture (brief labial contact on the hands for females and a firm hand-shake for males). Instead he hugged this woman and swung her around by the waist, expressing honest pleasure, rather than polite content at her presence.

He was not, as Dr. McCoy suggested, jealous. Jealousy was an emotion, and emotions would not be tolerated.

Apparently she had been a very close friend (Spock wondered; what _category_ of friend, and thought more, generally, un-necessarily degradatory thoughts about her) when Jim had continued speaking to her for the next half an hour; obscenely more than was appropriate, according to Spock.

He then began to relate the tale of how they met; two Academy students who had ended up (from a bar) in her place, _that_ close to having sex, when, as he went to remove his shoe, in his inebriated state, it went flying through a window. The start of a beautiful friendship was marked by slightly hysterical laughter.

Spock wasn't sure he believed that they hadn't engaged in sexual intercourse after the unfortunate incident in which Jim's shoe became airborne.

Spock found himself dangerously close to blaming his luck (not that he believed in any such thing, because that would be illogical) when he got stuck in a turbo lift with that woman. Well, now that he was in such close proximity with her, he might as well as call her by her given name; Tara. It was very similar to a Vulcan name (with a 'T' prefix), and he inferred that it was actually an old, Indian name, meaning 'Star'. It was oddly fitting, Jim being an explorer of the stars, and her being a star herself. _Poetic justice_, Spock thought, scathingly.

They were silent for a moment. "You don't like me much, do you?" she asked, suddenly, her voice ringing to his left, in the complete dark.

"That would be an illogical assumption," Spock replied, tonelessly, all the while thinking, _yes._ Her vocal type was…pleasing. It was darker that Lt. Uhura's, with a very slight accent which caused her to emphasize certain consonants. He couldn't place it, and said so.

She laughed. Even her laughter had a pleasing resonance. _No wonder the Captain was infatuated with her,_ Spock thought. "Born in India, raised in America, Singapore and London. I grew up with a medley of influences, and viola! My accent was born." She ended calmly, which was a lot more than Spock could say of other female specimens, who had incredibly high vocal ranges, and ended all their statements with ear shattering squeals. "But you haven't answered my question, Mr. Spock. You don't like me." This time it was a statement rather than a question, and he nodded, belatedly remembering that she could not see him.

But apparently he needn't have worried. She knew his answer anyway. "And I can even guess why, Mr. Spock."

And this one statement, without substantiation, without evidence, without her even knowing who he was, sent shivers down his spine (metaphorically). He didn't say anything.

"It's because—"

"Hey guys! Spock, Tara, sorry! The lift circuits shorted or something. Scotty's gonna fix it. You two are okay, right?" Jim's voice came through the speaker above them, and Spock was, for a short, blinding instant, worried that Jim had heard their entire conversation.

"Yeah, Jim. I'm fine," Tara replied, _obviously_ smiling.

"I, too, am adequate, Jim." Spock said, before inclining his head out of pure habit, despite the fact that no one could see him.

"Kay, you should be outta there in no time!" Jim's voice was hopelessly optimistic, and Spock knew they were going to be stuck in there for hours. Tara echoed his sentiment, and for a second his storm was stilled; if she knew Jim as well as he did, and she made Jim happy, then nothing should get between Jim and his happiness, even if it did not include Spock.

Jim sighed. "You guys know me too well," and said something to another person on his side, before saying to them, "Working on it. Just press the button if you're not feeling okay." The comm link switched off, and Tara continued her previous train of conversation.

"It's because you like him, isn't it?" she asked, tone smug.

Spock's heart tumbled and free-fell as he replied, hollow-ly, "It is undeniable that I 'like' the Captain. He is my commanding officer, and a man whom I hold in high est—"

"Yeah, yeah, Spock. Don't give me that." Spock could have cursed, if Vulcans cursed. This woman even _sounded_ like Jim. "I know you _like,_ like him," she said, sounding as smug as before.

She'd given this loophole to Spock; he couldn't _not_ take it. "I fail to differentiate between the first 'like' and the second 'like', except for a slight variation in intonation."

He could _hear_ her roll her eyes. "We both know what I'm talking about, whether you chose to acknowledge it or not. So I shall assume you know what I'm talking about, because you _do_, and will continue. You don't like me because you like him, and you think that I'm _with_ him, right?"

Her voice sounded light, and delighted. He chose to not respond. He was (poetically) falling into a deep pit of despair. He was momentarily worried that spending time around Dr. McCoy had caused a transfer of these habits of being un-necessarily dramatic and descriptive.

"Well, Mr. Spock," she continued as if his silence had answered her question. "You are completely wrong." His hopes sank, if possible, even deeper. "I am not romantically involved with Jim, have never been and never will be. We are simply close friends, and have been friends since the encounter which Jim was happily describing when we left him."

"And no, we didn't have sex after Jim chucked his shoe out the window," she continued, amending his very thoughts.

"However," she started after a further moments silence, "we have remained quite close, and am relatively sure that what Jim finds himself unable to tell you and Bones, he tells me. And I know something."

"You do?" he asked, drily, letting his humour slip. He felt slightly more relaxed after her honest declaration that she was not involved with Jim.

She chuckled, and continued, "Yeah. I do. He likes you too."

Spock could have sighed, if sighing was not an outward sign of an emotional reaction. "I inferred this myself, Ms. Tara. I am not, as you believe, a complete idiot. He is very friendly towards me, and is very friendly to everyone else on the crew, even though he regularly assures me that he could not survive without me."

Tara saw what he was talking about and sighed, with no restraint. "You just confirmed that you are a complete idiot." Spock was taken aback by the insult. "When I say 'like', I mean _like_." Spock couldn't even look at her blankly, because of the lack of light, but she must have realised. "Oh Spock! He's emotionally attached to you! More so than to any other crew-member, don't you see that?"

Spock was listening, not daring…

"Spock! He's _loved_ you for so _long!_" She cried, trying desperately to communicate that to Spock, and succeeding.

"Is what you say accurate? Are you misleading me?" He couldn't afford that glimmer of hope… It would destroy him if it turned out to be a lie. He couldn't believe her, not for a second…

"Accurate? Spock, it's the absolute truth!" She sounded so enthusiastic, that Spock was sure he would have read a lie like a word printed on paper. Unless she was a psychopathic liar. And Spock was sure Jim would have noticed it. Right? He really didn't know. "Oh come on! Meld with me, Spock. I'll show you the conversation."

Spock would have refused on principle. It was wrong to meld with someone unfamiliar; a meld was an act of extreme intimacy. But he had to know. But he couldn't meld, could he? He shouldn't. He was better than that.

"Ms. Tara, I cannot. It is against my principles to meld with you, I cannot destroy those principles. However, if you think about the conversation, I may be able to pick up trace emotions attached with the memory." She instantly agreed, and he formed an impression.

_A dark room… a fire going… bare skin… out-of-place laughter, like mist in the room… _

"_So… any deep dark secrets, while we're still drunk?"_

"_Nah. Except that I'm completely and irreversibly in love with my first officer."_

"_Wooo! Is she smokin'?"_

"_It's a he."_

"_Oh. Is _he_ smokin'?" _

_Laughter…_

"_Yeah, he's smokin'. But I'll neeever be with him, so don't say a damn word, kay, Tara?" _

"_Yeah yeah…" _

The impression-memory faded out, and Spock blinked. That was a true memory; not tampered with, and not make believe.

He stood up, as if to rush out of the small lift and confront Jim, and she smiled. "Just hang in there. He's such an idiot. You've been in love with him for an awfully long time, haven't you?" She asked.

He didn't have to answer, but said instead, "Thank you, Tara. Thank you for everything." She too, stood up, and brushed his shoulder with her hand, communicating joy for him and for Jim, and a deep rooted satisfaction.

Just then, the lift doors slammed open, and they blinked, blinded by the sudden brightness. Spock stepped outside first (it was a habit—the most strong goes out first), followed by Tara. Jim grinned, and gripped his shoulder (it was as much as both Jim, and Spock could allow themselves) and hugged Tara.

The night continued in peace, Spock relaxed (as relaxed as a Vulcan could get) and enjoyed Jim's social activities. They left the ball together, earlier than the rest as Spock (falsely) admitted tiredness. Jim hovered a bit, then seemed to understand that the tiredness was a side-effect of the ball, and not actual, physical tiredness. He grinned shamelessly when he told Spock of his suspicion, who let amusement shine through his eyes.

"Jim, today Tara told me something in the lift."

"Yeah?" Jim sounded distracted, and Spock knew it was a sham. Jim was more alert now than he had been the entire evening. "I'm glad you two are getting along. I don't know what I'd have done if my two all-time-best-friends couldn't get along with each other."

Spock nodded solemnly, and continued. "She told me about a conversation you had with her on the night of the airborne-shoe incident."

"Uh huh," Jim said, sounding more nervous now. Spock wondered if he'd sounded as nervous as this when Tara was talking to him. Worse still, he wondered if the feelings were still relevant. Doubtless they were.

"She told me that in your inebriated state you confessed to the admiration of another member of your crew."

"She did now, did she?" Jim sounded positively murderous.

"She said that you liked your first officer, who was a male, and also, "_smokin' hot_". In her words," Spock said, as if he couldn't believe he'd just said that. Jim had stopped walking, his wide eyes visible even in the dim evening sky, lit by a half moon.

"Okay, Spock," Jim said, sounding breathless, doing what was no doubt damage control. "Look, I know how this looks. Just hear me out." Spock waited.

"I." Jim was clearly at a loss. "Hang on, lemme think this out."

Spock was amused. It was obvious how panicked Jim was, but he wanted to prolong this moment as long as he could.

"I—Okay, _you_ are my _best_ friend. I trust you, a _lot_. I trust you more than I trust _any_one else in this Universe. And over time, I have found that you know more about me than most anyone in the Universe. And I trust you," and he paused to clarify his thoughts, because he was repeating himself, really fast. "And there is no one I can think of, with whom I'd rather share my life, than you. And I'm _sorry_!"

He almost wailed the last word, and made to grab him by the shoulders, but changed his mind at the last minute, and latched his hands to his sides. Spock was amused, but Jim must have taken it for anger, and covered his face with his hands.

"Are you going to listen to what I have to say now?" Spock asked, politely. Jim nodded, still looking miserable.

Spock wasn't exactly too sure what he himself was going to say, so decided to stick to a more clear series of actions; he shuffled closer (never having done this before, he has inexperienced) and placed his hands on Jim's cheeks, and instead of flinching at the unnatural heat (like most people did) Jim melted into his hands, pressing his cheeks into Spock's hand, and all of a sudden Spock's heart was beating erratically as if he had been deprived of oxygen for a while.

Then he moved closer. Jim looked up into his eyes, and his lips were met by Spock, who pulled Jim more securely into a kiss.

There were no words to describe the kiss, mainly because Jim was seeing nothing but stars, and the only thing that was left in his mind apart from Spock's _very_ distracting tongue was the fact that he had to breathe, and it was getting more and more urgent. He broke off gasping, unable to think straight, holding Spock's shoulders so he didn't topple over.

To Spock the effect was even more pronounced. He had never kissed anyone before, so not only was it a new sensory experience, but it was a new mental experience; he could _feel_ the joy radiating off Jim, from every inch of skin in his contact.

Spock too, was breathing more heavily. They stood in silence for a moment, considering what to do next, and then moved almost simultaneously, Spock reaching around Jim's waist while Jim went a bit lower; Spock jumped. It was so awkward and weird, yet comfortable, because it was just the two of them, that they both burst out laughing.

Well, Jim burst out laughing, while Spock smiled shyly.

"So, now we know what's going on, right?" Jim asked, as if checking to see if it was real.

Spock nodded.

"May I tempt you with dinner in my quarters? And a game of chess?" Jim asked, quietly, knowing that tonight, at least, a game of chess would be a game of chess, only. Moving any faster would ruin it. But he was willing to wait. And judging by the look on Spock's face, he'd been waiting too long anyway.

Spock was just happy watching the joyful look on Jim's face. He himself felt a similar contentment spreading through his mind, and he allowed himself to smile. A game of chess sounded good. It was inevitable that they would be together, there was surely no harm in taking it slow.

Well? Fluff-ness? Nice? I hope so. I'm not too happy with the ending, I feel it could have been done better… let me know?

Love,

Lady Merlin


End file.
